


Say Your Right Words

by Darkwood_Princess



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Jareth is ten thousand percent done with siblings who don't mean what they say, Pickett just gets tea, all that shiny, chapter two features karma, gnarlack gets his comeupance, he swears, newt just wants to hug his niffler, sarah finds this all a bit funny, say your right words, the niffler wants to take on jareth, theseus didn't mean it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-08 17:21:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8854135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkwood_Princess/pseuds/Darkwood_Princess
Summary: Theseus didn't mean to say the words, truly, and definitely not in the same way other siblings had done in the past.OrJareth and Sarah meet the Brothers Scamander.OrNora the Niffler likes shiny things, including Goblin Kings.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is crack. I know. And I still wrote it. :)

He had not meant to say the words, not in the way most beleaguered siblings said them.

He had merely meant – and you would too if you found a tiny niffler rapidly stuffing the entire contents of your soon to return Mother’s jewelry box into an ever expanding pouch – that some days he would like to send his little brother to visit the Goblins, just because he was bemused and not at all because he actually expected something to happen.

(He most certainly did not want them to make him a goblin. That was ridiculous.)

What Theseus Hestia  Leo Scamander had said, staring at his five year old sibling with fond exasperation, was “You know Newt, some days I wish the goblins would come and take you, like right now. Maybe then I wouldn’t have to explain this one to mum.”

Cue Thunder. Cue Lightning. Cue an ominous wind that billowed the floor to ceiling curtains and terrified the two boys in the master bedroom, one clutching a particularly unapologetic niffler.

Both nearly fell over when the owl swooped in through the open window, transforming in a snap into a human shaped creature of glitter and mischief.

“This one is a bit old to become a goblin, but he’ll do.” A pale eyebrow winged up elegantly at the pair of children, watching as the older one realized his mistake. He had expected panic, tears, and begging. He got a rapid kick to the shin and a lapful of protective older brother as he was unceremoniously knocked to the ground and ineffectively punched.

Theseus was slammed backward as a furious Goblin King loomed over him and dusted himself off with an imperious look.  “Excuse me, young man, but you made the wish, not I. What’s said is said and cannot be taken back. Getting physical with a being who can drop you in an oubliette for all eternity isn’t wise, understand?”

Theseus drew himself up to his full height, which wasn’t as much as the 12 year old would like and looked the Fae ruler in the eye with all the grace of a royal himself. “I didn’t really wish for them to take him away. I love my brother and I’ll fight you for him. Anything you throw me in, I’ll climb back out and come after you, you suspiciously wigged weirdo!”

Jareth nearly snorted, almost breaking character at the familiar determination in front of him. Sarah was going to have a field day with this one. The boy, the one he was meant to be spiriting away, wasn’t even focusing on him, instead restraining the creature in his arms which seemed to be reaching out for him.

Jareth shuddered. Nifflers in the Labyrinth were just as terrible as the stupid chickens the lesser goblins kept. But a magical promise was a promise and he had to fulfill the terms of his geas.

(Even if he didn’t relish keeping the creature anywhere near him. They loved glitter as much as gold – something to do with the sparkle.)

“Listen Theseus,” he sneered at the boy who was giving him his best stink eye.  “I’ll skip the offering you your dreams bit, because clearly you just want to keep your brother. To get him back you have to run my Labyrinth. ”

He mentally laughed at the irony of a boy named Theseus running a Labyrinth as he transported the three of them to the edge of his kingdom. Newt looked up for the first time, grasping his brother’s finely made sweater tightly at the rapid change in location and Theseus turned to the monarch with all the fury of a defending sibling.

Jareth studied them for a moment, seeing their futures in a glance without the aid of his showy and ever present crystals. He saw war and devastation and misery countered by acceptance, friendship, and love. He saw the now distant expulsion and the battles to be fought, slotted neatly next to weddings and births.

“I accept!” Theseus was glaring at him belligerently, snapping Jareth out of his mini-reverie, before the boy turned to his younger brother. “Listen Newt, I have to run this maze to get you back, so you behave for ole feather for brains here as much as possible. I don’t want to get to you, only to find that he’s made you into a real newt.” Newt finally met his eyes and smiled, inspiring a smile in his brother.

“Alright, These,” his mumble was so soft that Jareth almost missed it and he felt a pang of hope that this runner would make it through. If not, well, the young Newton would be well cared for in his kingdom. It wasn’t every day that a creature charmer walked into his world.

When Theseus turned around his brother and the King were gone.

XXXX

Sarah, Queen of the Goblins, watched in surprise as the tiny British boy charmed Hoggle into getting him a cup of juice, curled up in Ludo’s lap, and proceeded to  play a somewhat accurate game of chess against Sir Didymus.

Jareth rolled his eyes at the whole scene and threw his swagger stick down sullenly. “The musical numbers are the best part of all of this and I know this little one isn’t into that. He’d rather spend time with the goblins.”

Sarah laughed, “He’s probably the most well behaved wished away we’ve had yet.”

“Yes, but you see love, I rather enjoy this bit of my job.”

“Why don’t you check in on the runner?”

XXX

Theseus had ran through a herd of crazy, dismembered bird people, avoided the world’s stinkiest swamp, and solved about 17 stupid riddles by the time Jareth found him, just ten minutes shy of the doors to the castle.

“Do you still want your brother back? This has been an awful lot of work for you. You must be thirsty.” Jareth offered the muddy, scratched, and worn boy the glass gently, as one would a spooked creature.  His surprise when Theseus took it was only trumped by the boy pouring the liquid out on the ground.

“I got my brother into this and I don’t deserve any rewards until I get him back.”

Jareth stared at the determined young man, seeing the talented and strong adult he would become and stepped aside, smiling as he transported himself back to the castle in order to surrender the younger Scamander to his brother.  Had Theseus been cruel or unkind, one of those siblings who only ran the Labyrinth in order to avoid the guilt of a lost sibling or the punishment of their parents, he would have upped the ante, so to speak. However the boy had genuinely not meant to wish his sibling away and there was always a bit of wiggle room in how he set up a runner’s path.

Not to mention he noticed that confounded Niffler reaching for his swagger stick and trying to get the Official Goblin Seal off of him, while staring in an almost besotted manner at his sparkly hair. The Brothers Scamander had to go before he made a never ending tights pocket out of the creature.

XXX

As the world tipped and swirled around them, depositing Theseus and Newt back in their parents’ bedroom Jareth had only two pieces of advice for the boys.

“You,” he pointed at Theseus, “watch your words. I won’t be so kind a second time.”

Theseus merely rolled his eyes and held tightly to his little brother as if Jareth was going to rescind his surrender.

“And you,” he turned to Newt, “pick the American and don’t be a bloody fool about it.” The little boy stared at him in confusion but the Goblin King had said his piece and vanished in a whirl of owl and wind.

Newt would always remember the moment, if only for the strong embrace of his shaking brother (not half as brave as he would like others to believe) and the soft tinkling sound of Nora the Niffler sneaking the rest of his mother’s jewelry off her desk.

 

 


	2. The Law of the Jungle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betrayal is a nasty, nasty thing. Mysteries a little less so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't intended to write another chapter of this. Daughter_of_Hel left a comment that inspired me to write this. It's quite a bit darker than her suggestion, but I hope everyone enjoys it. Poem quote is by Rudyard Kipling. :)

There were few things that bothered Tina Goldstein more than an unsolved mystery.

She hated the feeling of not knowing, of being left in the dark while someone else pursued the truth.

She hated the knowing laughter of those who had the full picture, the gleam of teeth far more predatory than mirthful.

But most of all, Tina hated the feeling of betrayal, that someone she knew or trusted could possibly be holding back a secret from her.

Now, to be fair, she’d only know Newt Scamander for roughly a year and a half when the mystery presented itself, not quite enough time to fall in love but plenty of time to become fast friends.

(Fighting a dark wizard will do that to a gal – it was a definite priority setter)

Red and the rest of the goblin secretarial pool were covering for him. It was the only explanation for the easy way Newt seemed to bypass security protocols and somehow end up in her offices, the offices of the newly promoted deputy to recently reinstated Percival Graves.

And – before Queenie could accuse her of being paranoid – she knew it was Red specifically. She caught the wizened older goblin actually _smiling_ at the magizoologist. She’d never seen Red smile about anything.

(And once upon a time she’d tried, dear god she’d wanted to make everyone like her. It turns out Goblins don’t really like coffee. Maybe she should have tried ale.)

So, clearly, it had to be the goblins helping the clumsily endearing young man slip past extensive and unbelievably strong wards to bring her coffee and sandwiches during his most recent visit. This time he was actually on vacation, accompanying his brother who had traveled to the States to attend a conference on increased international magical security.

She had been unsurprised to find out that Mr. Graves and the elder Scamander were friends. It was the kind of oddly connected thing she’d expect from the extremely prepared, thankfully recovered Director.

Tina was startled out of her reverie by the soft knock of the aforementioned Newt as he poked his head around her doorjamb, nervous smile lighting up his long face beautifully. How someone so gangly could make himself so cute was something Tina thought should be illegal.

Of course, Tina Goldstein also thought a variety of things should be illegal – some more harmful (extendable niffler pockets were a nightmare to her now) and others less (plaid being worn with stripes was hideous and Bartholomew from the Misuse of No-Maj Machinery Department should know better).

“I brought you some lunch… again.” Newt’s voice was soft and tentative, a contrast to the aggressively grabby motions Pickett was making at the salad in his human-tree’s hands. Tina smiled and motioned him to sit down, thanking him before asking, as she had every day this week, how his research into the fauna of magical New York was going.

Even on vacation Newt Scamander couldn’t really abandon his work, and so Tina was often enthralled with tales of misplaced pygmy puffs in Central Park and, today, a fake tree in Macy’s which had somehow become home to a colony of Pickett’s American kin.

She completely forgot to ask him the question she’d been itching to ask, her curiosity about odd Goblin behavior lost in a tale about an heiress, a bowtruckle, and an escaped Pekingese when she heard a loud British yelp from outside the door and Theseus Scamander tumbled in, his pants leg smoking as he frantically beat at it with a rolled up copy of that day’s _New York Ghost_.

“Do you have to use Percy’s favorite fire ward? I never quite learned the counter for that one and he takes infinite pleasure at laughing at my singed trousers.” Theseus was the sun to Newt’s more subtle moon, bright, vivacious, and personable.

And yet, Tina had found to her delight that the brothers shared a relationship similar to her and Queenie, one which had weathered the ups and downs of long distances and the threats society often leveled at the intelligent and unique.

(And if no one else had figured out that Thesesus was just as quirky as Newt, it was a testament to society’s ability to gloss over a man in favor of his story.)

“How _do_ you avoid it little brother?” Theseus plonked himself down next to his brother, ruffling his sibling’s hair as he tried to look elegant in the less comfortable chairs Tina kept for visitors. She had no need for long conversations with anyone but Queenie – and those could be had with her mostly being quiet.

A small voice in the back of her head pointed out gently that she might want to get Newt a better chair if he was going to visit her every day now for the duration of his two week visit. She pushed that voice away in favor of listening to Newt’s response.

His smile was secretive as he glanced at his brother from underneath a fringe of auburn curls. “I merely used my right words. Namely ‘please’. It works wonders.” Theseus choked on the tea he’d summoned for himself and threw his brother a teasingly dirty look.

“Well then, in that case, I’m never getting in here without a problem am I?”

The response only raised more questions than it answered and Tina watched as Newt laughed and Theseus grinned back, some joke that only the two knew leaving her in the dark.

“Our apologies, Miss Goldstein,” Theseus nodded towards her as he stole some salad off her plate with surprisingly deft fingers, “It’s merely a joke between the two of us. Newt has a surprisingly shocking sense of humor, as I’m sure you’ve found out by this point.”

Newt merely rolled his eyes, shoving his brother playfully.  “Says the man who pranked half of Hogwarts and blamed it on the Bloody Baron. And got away with it.” Theseus merely laughed while Tina tried to puzzle out what kind of school would employee a person with that kind of credentials.

Unfortunately her lunch break was more or less over at this point and she had to get back to work. There was a firm knock on her door as she prepared to start working again while Newt and Theseus had a small argument over whether or not Pickett should be allowed to drink tea and just how much caffeine was wise to give a bowtruckle.

The universe seemed to be laughing at her as it was a goblin by the name of Twistee who poked her head around the door, reminding Tina of her unsolved mystery and conveniently delivering her the numbers she’d needed from the finance department. Informants were getting harder to fund, something directly correlated to the rising unrest in both the No-Maj and Wizarding worlds.

Newt noticed her frustration and, boldly (for him), reached over and grasped her hand. “Problem?”

Tina growled in annoyance at the extravagant going fees. “Ever since Gnarlack betrayed us, it’s been getting harder and harder for me to find informants. He had quite the influence in the criminal underground.”

Newt’s frown was sympathetic and next to him Theseus nodded in commiseration. “It’s getting harder at home as well. People are scared everywhere.” Tina noticed Twistee had stopped and was listening at the door.

“Most goblins are nice.” Newt murmured as he pulled Pickett away from Theseus’ mug. “Gnarlack was different. Maybe he had a reason.” Pickett blew a raspberry to the magizoologist’s grimacing face, “But I’m sure you’ll be fine, Tina. You’re ver-ry good at what you do.”

He only stuttered once. Tina found it absolutely adorable.

XXX

Sarah Williams, Queen of the Goblins, usually found her subjects adorable. But the face Twistee was making, the disgust evident on her face as she described the actions of one Gnarlack, let her know quite clearly that betrayal of a wished away was tantamount to treason.

She remembered Newton and Theseus Scamander well. Newt had been such an adorable little child, charming the goblins around him with an unflinching curiosity and a kindness that was often missing in human hearts towards the more creative denizens of their world. She had always wondered what happened to him and his bossy older brother, a protective boy who reminded her more than a little bit of herself.

Time ran so differently in the Underground in comparison to the above world and Sarah, still getting used to the concept of immortality, was slowly coming to understand all the rules of her adopted world.

Jareth, frowning in anger next to her, knew all those rules and made up more of them as he went along. The look on her husband’s face was not the mock anger he reserved for runners and petulant children who gave up their own flesh and blood for selfish reasons. The fury on his face was real, a tempest that promised pain to the offender.

“Precious, I have some business to attend to.”

If there was one thing Sarah had learned about the world she’d fallen in love with over the years it was this: The world above and around them could treat the forgotten and abandoned as if they were nothing, but goblins were not helpless, and despite all appearances their ruler had feelings far stronger than the pantomimes he faked for other’s benefit. He truly cared for those under his domain, a domain that included the wished away just as surely as it included the citizens he so carelessly ruled and carefully protected from other Kingdoms which wished them nothing but harm.

A satisfied smile lit Sarah’s features as Jareth vanished in a twist of reality.

This Gnarlack would never know what hit him.

XXX

There are worse things in existence than a bog of eternal stench and a poisoned peach.

The old poets knew it best, able to glimpse in dreams a world which their imagination could paint in Technicolor in comparison to the monochrome of their fellows. It was put most simply thus:

_Now here is the law of the Jungle/As old and as true as the sky/And the wolf that shall keep it may prosper/But the Wolf that shall break it must die/As the creeper that girdles the tree trunk/The law runneth forward and back/The strength of the Pack is the Wolf/And the Strength of the Wolf is the Pack._

What happened to Gnarlack is best left to the imagination of poets and dreamers, those most capable of conjuring the proper imagery.

And if suddenly informants were much easier to afford for Tina Goldstein, she was none the wiser, the mystery of Newt Scamander’s odd friendship with Red and the other goblins remaining just that as the world plunged further into the madness of Grindelwald and her time was occupied with more pressing though no less dangerous mysteries.

 


End file.
